The day is done, and the darkness
Falls from the wings of night
As a feather wafted downward
From an eagle in his flight.
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This one has always been a favorite of mine. One of our masters lending such credence to the humbler everyday poet's work. The peace in the rhythm of this poem soothes my restless pulse of care; I take comfort.
WOW! ! ! ! Couldn't get a living person to read that? Just HAD to let the computer voice do it huh? There is no better way to utterly destroy the beauty and flow of a poem than reading it in a mechanical, stilted voice.